


Betrayal

by Jathis



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Death, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 13:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4103167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jathis/pseuds/Jathis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To become one, you must kill one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Betrayal

He has never before felt pride at the notion of a new Praetorian. He is usually irritated at the idea of losing an older member and gaining someone new. With a new member he has to worry about training them on how to properly behave with their new responsibilities and with their new lighter armor. They always start off walking like roosters with their heads held high and proud and it usually takes a few sharp beatings from him and the older ones to put them in their place.  
  
Nevertheless, today he feels pride as the two hopefuls are led onto the blood stained sands of the Arena. They are young men, not yet out of their twenties, but they have killed many in the name of Caesar and they have both earned the right to become Centurions. Caesar however, chose them to become new members of his Praetorian guard, an honor that very few ever receive.  
  
Lucius and his men stand shoulder to shoulder, their backs straight and their arms behind their backs. They look as professional as ever, the very model of efficiency and discipline as befits those who guard Caesar.  
  
Lucius already knows that one of the new recruits will die. The one called Balbus is a constant babbler and Lucius and his men have watched him during training. All of them are still confused on how he managed to kill so many people…and a few have wondered if he simply stole kills from other soldiers.  
  
The other one…the other one Lucius knows will make it. He is a strong young man; his nose slightly twisted to one side after being broken on several occasions. He does not waste his time talking like Balbus and each and every one of his kills are his own; there is no doubt about that among the other soldiers.  
  
He was once a Twisted Hair before Caesar… assimilated them into the Legion. He had been a furious youth of seventeen when it happened and had even made an attempt on a few Legionnaires' lives during his indoctrination, managing to kill one before he was finally restrained.  
  
Lucius took pity on the teen and he talked Caesar into sparing the boy from crucifixion, promising to take his training into his own hands. He renamed the boy Catulus and trained him in the art of unarmed combat. He taught him everything he knew and over time he came to think of the boy as the son he never had himself and although he knew that it was cheating, he told the boy exactly who to pick for his own initiation and how to best them in the fight.  
  
Balbus is chosen first to go through initiation and Lucius cannot help but let out a loud bark of laughter when he chooses one of the strongest Praetorians to fight with. The guard in question cocks an eyebrow and glances over at his fellows with a knowing smirk as he steps forward, cracking his knuckles noisily.  
  
To become a Praetorian…a recruit must kill a current one with their bare hands. Balbus does not last more than five minutes. The first blow thrown shatters his nose and the second breaks his jaw. The rest thrown are merely for play and in the end he snaps Balbus' neck with a single blow to his throat. It was a fight with an obvious ending and while those in the stands applaud for the death of Balbus; the Praetorians stand as still as ever, their brother standing beside them once more as the Houndmaster Antony takes the body away to feed his dogs.  
  
It is now Catulus' turn to choose and Lucius glances over at Bucco. The Praetorian is getting old now and he favors his left when in battle. Lucius knows this and he told Catulus all about it. The Praetorians would grow stronger without Bucco, he is sure of it.  
  
He stares in disbelief as his own name leaves Catulus' lips. For a moment there is nothing, he stands there in line with his men. In the back of his head he can hear Vulpes' wicked laughter but when he looks where the man is standing he is as cold as ever, the dark lenses of those glasses covering the glint in his eye.  
  
It is not until Caesar clears his throat that Lucius is snapped back into reality and numbly he steps forward from the line, looking into Catulus' cold eyes helplessly. The boy curls his lip as he takes his stance and slowly Lucius does the same, images of him training him flashing in his mind as the battle begins.  
  
***  
  
Arcade runs his hand over the chain that connects his ankle to Caesar's throne. The former Follower had tried once again to flee but he had been found only a few hours after the attempt, dragged back and made an example of in front of the others, saved from death only because of Caesar's refusal to kill someone who also spoke conversational Latin. His back was still throbbing and the minimal amount of friction from his coat only made the pain flare up again. He refused however to remain completely shirtless here and he suffered in stubborn silence.

He looks up when he hears footsteps approaching, only calming slightly when he sees that it is Lucius. The man's face is cold and stony and Arcade opens his mouth to say something when he suddenly sees the man's hands. They are soaked in blood.

Wordlessly Lucius sits beside the enslaved Follower and Arcade says nothing, knowing that words of comfort will not work for the poor man. Instead he leans against him gently, waiting for Lucius to speak first.  
  
"His name was Stubborn Mutt before he was brought here. I renamed him Catulus. I taught him everything he knew and he chose to fight me to the death," Lucius whispers and Arcade's eyes soften sadly as Lucius rests his head on his shoulder.  
  
The two men stay like this for quite some time and it is not until Caesar enters his tent that Lucius stands to attention, his eyes as dry as ever like a proper Praetorian.


End file.
